This just happened.

I will now attempt to answer what I imagine your questions to be.

1.  Did you just give Jack a set of drums? 

     Yes.  You are very observant.

2.  Like, at your house?  

     Yes.

3.  Like, six weeks before Christmas?  

Um, yes.  We purchased them as a Christmas gift, initially.  However, the Davies family is genetically incapable of holding onto gifts for very long.  This ailment is apparently contagious, because it was Durel's idea to give the drums early.

4.  Aren't they loud?  

Yes, they are.  Particularly because four year old drummers don't have a lot of, shall we say, percussive nuance.  He just beats the shit out of those things.  Which means that yes, it is quite loud.

5.  DON'T YOU HAVE A BABY?  

Yes, we do.  We have the coolest baby on the planet, and the drums don't bother him.  Even when he's in bed.

6.  Oh, Jack's room is far away from Sawyer's room?  

No.  They share a wall.

7.  Have you lost your minds?  

Probably.

8.  What on earth are you thinking?

Drums are fun.  Childhood is far too fast, and you only get to do it once.

9.  Can your friends come over and play these drums?

Yes. You should bring wine.

10.  So, is it possible that you guys aren't crazy after all?

I knew I liked you.  Don't forget the wine.

Hope you carpe the hell out of that diem.

Talk soon,

Heather

queso, wherefore art thou queso?

I didn't know about chile con queso until I moved to Austin in 2001.  I'm not sure how the opportunity to order a bowl of melted cheese in a restaurant (and eat it in public, without judgment) had escaped me for that long.  I've been making up for lost time ever since.

From Homesick Texan.  Disregard the sound of me, weeping.

That is, until two weeks ago.

My sweet angel of a newborn, Sawyer, is allergic to milk protein.  This happens to some babies; it's different than lactose intolerance; they usually outgrow it by age 1, if not age 3.  Fine.

What that means is that I cannot have any food with milk protein in it.  It also means that I cannot have any food with casein or whey protein in it.

[long pause]

UGH.

And so, as I mentioned, it has been two weeks of a Dairy-Free Heather.  Here are the highlights:

-- I don't miss cheese as much as I thought I would.

-- I haven't killed anyone!

-- Coconut milk creamer is awesome.

-- Almond milk yogurt is NOT awesome.

-- I miss yogurt more than I thought I would.

-- Thank God for peanut butter.

-- There is NO DAIRY in Oreos.  (Stop and think about that for a moment...)

-- I really like celery.  Plain.

-- Vegan chocolate chips are expensive.

-- I am not likely to make vegan chocolate chip cookies.

-- I like Lara bars.  Especially the blueberry ones.

The most important observation is that Sawyer is flourishing with my new diet.  His cheeks are rosy.  He's smiling.  His, um, digestion is vastly improved, shall we say.  (That is also how we diagnosed there was a problem.  It was in his diaper.  I'll leave it at that.)

Happier than Pharrell to be dairy-free.

I'm also avoiding as much soy as possible.  I am having NO dairy at all, and as little soy as I can.  Damn, Gina.  Soy is in EVERYTHING.  

We were already drinking almond milk at our house.  No big change there.

When you completely rule out dairy, you get really hungry, really fast.  

To be clear, I don't think formula is the devil.  But I do know that the formula that is both soy and dairy-free is approximately the price of our mortgage.  And that I can create milk for free, and it's better.

Also, yesterday I would have kicked a puppy for a cheese pizza.  And then, I saw Sawyer, that little bundle of dairy free awesomeness, and I didn't give a shit (pun not intended) about pizza.

Hope you do what you have to do today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Woah, dude.

Sawyer turned two months old yesterday!  He's great.  Completely and utterly great.

And no, he's not going to Yoko Ono this blog.  He would never do that.

For Jack, life is currently about two things:  Star Wars and Sawyer.  When Sawyer thoughtfully surprised Jack with this shirt as a gift for being such a great big brother, the synthesis of these two great things was mind-blowing.

This moment rocks so hard, I can't even put my arms down.

Jack has also been picking out his own outfits and having a serious blast at school, especially on popsicle day.

For Sawyer, life is about eating and sleeping and GROWING.

Before, he had one chin:

Put down the camera.  I am busy growing more chins.

I am dreaming of additional chins that I might like to have some day.

Booya.

Other than that, I've observed a few things about motherhood the second time around.  You are less worried about every little thing.  You are more inclined to throw the onesie away in the event of a four star blowout.  You are just as carried away by love.

Hope you get carried somewhere today.

Talk soon,
Heather

ain't nobody got time for that

There is no Elf on the Shelf at our house.  

(Editor's Note:  Elf on the Shelf = recent cultural phenomenon where you take a toy elf, give it a nickname, and move it into different places in your home every morning to make your children believe that it's watching them and reporting back to Santa on whether they are naughty or nice.)

You (the family) give your elf a fun name, like Candy Cane, or Rudolph, or Bing Crosby, and then you (the parent) move them around each night.  You (the parent) are supposed to be creative.

I love my family.  I love Christmas.  Beyond words.

But, you know what?  I am not doing this.  I will forget.  I will not be creative.  Is it really necessary?  Is that elf a little creepy?  Do we need it?  

Instead, I snagged a picture of myself with Santa at Christmas Affair.  It's on my phone.  I showed it to Jack and told him that Santa and I are buddies, and that I could call him at any moment if Jack was being naughty.

I mean, I think that's pretty creative, and it doesn't involve me smearing Nutella on a doll's face when I'd really rather be sleeping.

Also, when you're 5 months pregnant, you try to streamline things, and you tend to be a little more blunt than usual.  So, there's also that.

Hope you find a way to keep it real today.

Talk soon,
Heather

mid-term elections

Foreversville, Bunny has been Jack's ultimate compadre.

Technically, that is still true.

However, there's a little competition brewing.  From Dee Da, of all people!

I feel like Bunny is the one who's full of unconditional love and support and enthusiasm.  And for Jack, that is what has made Bunny his best friend for ever and ever.  Pardon my French, but when four year old shit gets deep, it's Bunny that Jack runs for.

On the other hand, I feel like Dee Da is the buddy who lopes in with the well-timed joke and makes Jack laugh.  And that Jack is realizing the value of having another best friend, too.  Maybe even, a sarcastic, dotted one.

Case in point:  Jack took Dee Da to Show and Tell last week.   I mean, hold the phone, people.

On a related note, I was out of town last week.  And I can confidently say that my risk-averse self would NEVER have let Jack take Dee Da to show and tell, for the utter fear of WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS???

But, I give Durel full SuperDad credit.  He let Jack take Dee Da.  Dee Da came, saw, and conquered.  And everything was OK.

Phew.

Hope you are surprised by who may or may not be calling the shots today.

Talk soon,
Heather

dreaming

One of my most sincere goals for parenthood is to encourage Jack to dream.  I want him to know that the world is wide open to him.  I want him to know that he can create art, create change, create joy, create adventure.  And that to create, you need to dream.

Admittedly, this is a lofty goal when I'm still wiping his bottom, but parenting is a marathon, not a sprint, people.

Anyway, one of my favorite Irishmen summed this up pretty well, I think.

Yes, I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and see the dawn before the rest of the world.  - Oscar Wilde

Hope you dream big today.  And wipe your own bottom.

Talk soon,
Heather